herlucidlife

The sadness inside is mild, still like a fog in my aura. Engulfing my happiness yet joy still breathes strongly. I don’t know when it became a part of my being but somehow it feels homey like the house she left me before drifting to the Father in the Sky. Learning how to like this version of myself. Sensing a turn in events, it won’t always be like this. Trying to embrace the coldness inside, does anyone understand that it’s not simple. A situation, a chain of events changed who I thought I was. Time doesn’t matter if the choice to let go hasn’t been made. Fist closed tight, wiggling one finger at a time…something inside has to feel realer than sadness. I can grasp it but that feels like a lie at the moment. 

Smelling the air inside my home brings a peace that never runs dry. Filling my lungs deeply with the aroma inside these walls, nothing is like crossing the threshold of this magical place. God allowing my feet to hit the cold marble floors, I can exhale the day away. Finally, in my comfort I stopped talking to myself like a butt ugly horse tail. Perhaps what if I’m stuck in immaturity? Is it possible to freeze someone in an emotional time warp? Child like, talking a good game, I’m losing credibility in my own eyes. Her beautiful smile on my lock screen. Her and his beauty sparkling on my home screen. I don’t talk about dad much. He’s my forever soulmate, my first angel. A dad’s girl at heart my little soul could feel something wasn’t right when I ran to the door and he no longer appeared. 

Can you hear the hurt still? Rehashing old tales because that’s all I have…will you sit and listen a little longer? Listening to stories of you between the ages of two and twenty-nine years, crying over you in my childish years. Wailing “I miss my daddy” being whispered through small raspy gulps of air rushing between my lips into my pillow. I grieved him years after he left, things felt normal yet off…I’m done now.

 I made a purchase yesterday, it’s been sending me into orbit ever since. Floating into space, looking down at this girl that seems so out of sorts. Whispers of gratefulness hit her heart when she thinks of the woeful. Thankful in the haze, speaking goodness over myself, it doesn’t come easy. Hard on myself, talking lies into my ear, not thinking highly of this skin. I hit a hard slump sometimes. Brother spoke truths back into my ear, things I needed to be reminded of. The child in me doesn’t like being refreshed on lessons I should know. Yet every now and then my own voice isn’t enough, sometimes morphing into the enemy. Lies are harmful especially when spoken over yourself.